12 Days
by Animegirl1129
Summary: Jason and Spinelli suffer through 12 days of complete and total hell at the hands of the Creepy Christmas Stalker out to win over Spinelli. JaSpin .
1. Days 1 to 4

12 Days

**_Major thanks to suerum on this one as well. Um, the days get long as they get further in, so they'll be less and less on each one. Last chapter will show up on Christmas Day. Towards the end of the fic, it does go a little AU-ish, but not ridiculously so. Um, boys aren't mine. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!_**

* * *

It had been late and he'd been at the Jackal P.I. offices looking for Spinelli when the phone call had come.

"Stone Cold?" Came the wavering voice on the other end of the line. "The Jackal would like to request that you make haste back to your humble home. Something most alarming seems to have occurred." The younger rambled, and he could hear strange noises coming from the background. "It's… quite baffling."

"Are you okay?" Jason asked just to be sure that his trusty grasshopper was not in imminent danger, already on his way back to his bike.

He heard a door slam shut and that got him moving faster. "Uh, affirmative. But how long that remains true is quite the uncertain aspect."

"I'll be there in a few minutes." The elder assured, ending the call so he could put his helmet on and start home.

He might have broken a couple of minor traffic laws in his pursuit to get back to Spinelli, but he didn't get caught. He parked the bike quickly, got upstairs quickly, and was contemplating entering the penthouse armed when he made out the same strange noise he'd heard on the phone.

"Spinelli?" Cautiously, he opened the door, peering inside as if something might jump out and attack.

Spinelli was nowhere to be seen in the immediate area, but a large fruit tree had taken up residence in the center of the living room. Nesting in the center of it was a rather vicious looking bird that turned to squawk at him, flapping its wings in a threatening manner. Its eyes zeroed in on him as it puffed itself up and ruffled its feathers.

Jason stared at the sight before him. "The hell…?"

The closet beside the door creaked open, alarming Jason further, up until he realized that it was just Spinelli. "Surely that… thing… is not simply in the Ace of Cyberspace's imagination, correct?" The hacker questioned, moving along the wall until he was beside and mostly behind Jason.

"Was this here when you came home?" Jason questioned, eyeing the whole thing quite suspiciously. If this hadn't been Spinelli's doing – and apparently he hadn't been responsible because he looked quite upset by the whole thing – it brought up the issue of someone breaking in to do it.

Spinelli nodded. "There was no sign of breaking and entering, aside from the obvious…" He motioned to the still screeching bird in the tree. "What do we do?"

He weighed the pros and cons of dealing with the issue tonight, ultimately deciding that it could wait until morning. "We go upstairs, for now." He instructed, moving along the wall toward the stairs with Spinelli close behind him, giving the tree and its vicious occupant a wide berth. "I'll figure out something to do with it in the morning."

***

The next morning Jason and Spinelli headed downstairs with the hope that it had all been some sort of shared delusion. But, of course, the bad tempered bird in the big fruity tree was still there, as were two smaller – and thankfully less ferocious looking – birds flittering about above them.

Spinelli had already come to the conclusion that someone was mimicking the 12 Days of Christmas the previous night, but this verified it. "Two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree." He frowned. "This is going to present quite the mystery. First and foremost is the question of whom they are meant for."

"The only question I care about is who's getting in here and doing it." Jason grumbled, watching the homicidal looking bird closely. "Look." He pointed toward the desk by the front door, where another new aspect to the madness had been added. A clock, set on some sort of countdown. Beside it, in stunning crimson calligraphy, is a note:

_~For my beloved, I am counting the hours until you are mine under the mistletoe._

Jason, quite unnerved now, reluctantly passed the creepy note to Spinelli. "Okay, new rules. One, there's no way I'm letting this go on until Christmas. Two, you're not going anywhere alone until this is sorted out."

"No argument here, Stone Cold." Spinelli agreed quickly.

"Come on, let's get to work on figuring this out."

***

They found nothing on the building's security tapes, nor with any potential witnesses in the building. Whoever was doing this to them was apparently quite stealthy in their work. More importantly, no one with the experience to extricate the birds (specifically the bloodthirsty partridge) from the penthouse seemed to believe their story, and thusly, they had no choice but to leave them in control of the living room.

Everything had still looked fairly normal – as much as it could have with three birds taking up residence – when they'd gone to sleep on the evening of Day 2, but upon venturing back down in the morning, found that it was no longer so.

Three hens – presumably French, Spinelli would verify it online later – were wandering about. An egg or two had already splattered on the hardwood floor.

"I'll get the locks changed." Jason decided, ushering Spinelli out of the penthouse. They ended up at the Jackal P.I. office, where Spinelli could check up on non-existent leads without the terrifying birds clucking and squawking at them. Last night's invasion had left as much evidence as previous days – none at all – and analysis of the note had turned up nothing, as well.

Jason spent most of the time at the office watching the door and the street below for any sign of trouble. Whoever was doing this was clearly a few cards short of a whole deck and Jason knew that meant that the culprit's behavior would be unpredictable as a result. Assuming the target of this chaos was Spinelli – he doubted it was himself, and in the event that it was, then Spinelli would be at risk anyway, since he was the closest person to Jason – he had to be careful.

When they returned to Casa de Stone Cold, now fitted with new locks, which only Jason and Spinelli have the keys to, they seemed a bit more relaxed by the prospect.

"Think these security measures will keep our Christmas Stalker at bay this evening?" Spinelli questions, as they slink their way into the kitchen for some dinner.

"It better." Jason answered, scraping eggshells from his shoe upon reaching the sanctity of the kitchen.

***

Day 4 did not start out well, in fact, it started out at 4 in the morning.

Music was playing. Loudly.

Jason and Spinelli met up in the hallway, both still clad in pajamas and looking decidedly irritated at being woken up at such an early hour. Surely their nighttime trespasser had not gotten past their new locks. There was no way.

But, on top of the malevolent bird in the pear tree, the two turtle doves, the three messy and, indeed, French, hens that resided in the living room there were now four rather vocal birds perched about the previous haven of the kitchen.

More disconcerting than that, Spinelli's laptop was up and running on the kitchen counter. It was within the main interface, which meant that their stalker had gotten through his passwords without much trouble - as it had a shutdown failsafe system installed – and music playing. The playlist included such creepy and stalker-ish hits as 'You Belong to Me,' 'You Might Think…,' 'Every Breath You Take,' 'I Will Possess Your Heart,' 'One Way or Another,' and 'I Put a Spell on You.'

The younger quickly stopped the disturbing music. It was also Spinelli who saw the note first today, this time stuck to the refrigerator, written in the same blood red script. He pulled it off of its magnetic clip and reluctantly read the words aloud.

_~ Soon, my love, in a matter of mere hours, the truest sign of my undying affection shall descend upon thee._

The words send a chill down Spinelli's spine, and he passes the paper to Jason.

"The culprit got through the brand new locks protecting Casa de Stone Cold." Spinelli realized as he collected his hacked laptop. "And navigated a course through the series of complex passwords the Jackal had in place."

"I know, I know." Jason frowned, dragging a hand through his hair. "We'll figure this out." He ushered Spinelli out of the kitchen and they carefully maneuvered themselves past the tree with the malicious beast residing in it and back upstairs. "I'll stay up tonight and end this." He left Spinelli at the door to the pink room. "For now, try and get back to sleep."


	2. Days 5 to 8

12 Days

**_Major thanks to suerum on this one as well. Um, the days get long as they get further in, so they'll be less and less on each one. Last chapter will show up on Christmas Day. Towards the end of the fic, it does go a little AU-ish, but not ridiculously so. Um, boys aren't mine. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!_**

* * *

The rest of Day 4 was otherwise uneventful by comparison to the early morning events. Spinelli had stayed upstairs, Jason downstairs – although a safe distance from the menacing guardian of the tree. The elder stayed up through the night, alert for any sign of their trespasser. There had been no trace.

At least until Spinelli woke in the morning.

"Stone Cold!" The hacker had shouted, which sent Jason running.

He pushed the door open to the pink room, expecting something bad, but upon initial inspection, he found nothing more so out of place than Spinelli's normal organized disarray. "What's wrong?"

He held up his left hand, which now displayed a golden ring.

The remaining four rings of the set were chained along a blood red ribbon that ran along Spinelli's headboard.

While Day 5's gift meant that they officially knew who the target of this terrifying event was, it also meant that the doer had gotten past Jason and into Spinelli's room. Hell, the gift giver had put the ring on Spinelli's finger.

"He was in here, Stone Cold. He was in here and we didn't know it and…" He shifted frantically, trying to extricate himself from his tangle of blankets, but his hand hit something that felt like paper. Another note. "The Jackal does not wish to read this one." He said, offering the paper to his mentor.

Jason unfolded it slowly, not really wanting to read it himself, either.

_~ Darling, soon it shall be time for you to come with me, abide with me in eternal love, our heart's blood shall warm the frozen ground._

He was more than glad Spinelli had foregone reading it. "Pack a bag; we're getting out of here. Now." Jason ordered, quickly retreating to his own room to do the same.

Spinelli hadn't even bothered changing out of his pajama pants and old t-shirt. He'd pulled on shoes and a hoodie and thrown a few things into a bag, didn't even bring his laptop - which he had to presume was corrupted after being hacked the previous day. "Ready." He said, meeting Jason at the top of the stairs, fully prepared to escape this hellish situation.

They went to the Metro Court and booked a room under one of Jason's aliases. "I'm not letting anything happen to you." Jason told him, as they stepped into their gloriously bird free suite.

It was then that Spinelli realized that in his panic to get out of the penthouse, he'd forgotten – somehow – to remove the blasted ring. He tugged it off his finger and tossed it to the small table in the room.

Jason picked it up and examined it. "I wonder if we can find out where this is from, who ordered it?" He proposed, spinning the ring in his hand. "There's an inscription inside, too."

"Does the Jackal want to know?" The younger inquired.

"_Forever_." Jason read.

Spinelli sat himself down on the bed, staring at nothing. "And we still have a week of this accursed carol to get through?"

"I don't know how whoever's doing this is doing this, but we're going to find out and stop him, okay?" Jason tucked the ring into his pocket. "There's a cybercafé downstairs, we can work on tracking the ring."

"Alright."

***

Day 6 dawned at a normal hour. And with a huge sigh of relief from both Jason and Spinelli, when they realized that the six geese a'lying had not found their way into the room in the night. There was no sign that the room had been broken into.

"Nothing?" Spinelli inquired, as Jason checked the bathroom and balcony for signs of the waterfowl.

"Nothing." The elder verified.

"Perhaps we have lost our overzealous Christmas Stalker with our move?"

Jason shrugged. He wouldn't be happy with this until they'd gotten through the full 24 hours of the day without the presence of geese. "We can hope."

And for a while, Jason thought that they really might have. Like the previously day, they spent it in the cybercafé, tracking down the leads from the ring, all which led to the inevitable nowhere. When it started to get late, they headed over to the hotel's restaurant to get dinner.

It was there that they discovered that the adventure with the 12 Days of Christmas had not yet come to an end. Six silver trays had been wheeled out by clearly unsuspecting waiters while they were sipping their drinks – orange soda and coffee, respectively - even though they had ordered simple meals that would not require such an abundance of elaborate service.

"What's this?" Jason pressed the closest waiter, who only frowned in confusion.

"We were told to deliver these to your table."

The lids were lifted off of the six platters and beneath them were six honking geese. An occasional egg on the tray as well spoke of the connection to the carol. Jason and Spinelli exchanged utterly horrified looks.

"Who said we were supposed to get this?" Jason started to demand of the wait staff, but he found that Spinelli had taken off on him, was already heading toward the elevator. "Hey, wait!" He called out, racing after his grasshopper. If their stalker knew they were here then there was not a chance in hell that Jason was letting Spinelli go running off alone.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jason was aware that running straight back to the room made it insanely simple for the bastard behind all of this to follow, but a larger part of his mind was far more concerned with Spinelli ending up face to face with this guy. So, upon catching up to the younger man, they headed right for the room. Jason locked and chained the door behind them.

"Spinelli," The elder began, sitting down beside the younger, who had sprawled himself across one of the beds. "We'll get through this, alright?" He settled a reassuring hand on Spinelli's shoulder, but found that he suddenly lacked the energy to pull it away again. "Hey, do you feel okay? I…"

Spinelli, likewise, had been sapped of his energy and his vision swam before him.

Within moments, they'd both passed out.

***

Day 7 began differently for both Jason and Spinelli.

For Jason, it began with panic. Upon recalling the previous evening's events with the geese, he woke to discover that he was alone. Spinelli was nowhere in the suite and he made haste in his search for the Jackal, fearing the worst. Fearing the words that had been on the note two days prior.

Wobbly from whatever he had been drugged with – as there was no way he would have simply passed out last night instead of getting them out of their now compromised hotel room and somewhere safer – he started a frantic search.

For Spinelli, it began with a splash. He hit the water and came up spluttering and flailing in the hotel pool. He'd apparently been precariously balanced on the edge of the concrete pool in a lounge chair. Eventually, he'd tipped it. The water was cold, but it wasn't that which alarmed him the most. Sharing the pool with him were seven elegant swans, which were honking and flapping their wings at him in protest of his frantic splashing.

Not only had their room been broken into, but he had been relocated without anyone being alerted. Surely carrying an unconscious figure about the hotel should have caused a scene. And why had Jason not stopped it?

He pulled himself out of the deep water, away from the swans, and flopped down on the concrete only to find a note awaiting him.

_~ Beloved, 'tis apparent that your heart is not pledged as eternally as is mine. You cannot run from our love, nor should you. We are destined and destiny entwines with death._

Jason wasn't there to shield him from the malevolent words this time. Shaking now, from both cold and fear, he staggered to his feet, unsure as to why his balance was so unstable. He stumbled back into the hotel and automatically made for the elevator that would hopefully return him to Jason.

It was when he went to press the button that he realized he was once again wearing the inscribed ring. Quickly, he pulled it off and pocketed the gold band.

He'd just stepped into the elevator car when he felt himself be hauled backwards by the collar of his soaking wet shirt. For a second, he feared that it was his tormentor who'd grabbed him, but he found himself pulled into Jason's arms instead.

"You're okay." The elder said, sounding relieved and furious and terrified all at once. "What happened to you?"

Whether he was speaking of the current rather dampened state of his grasshopper or where he had been disappeared off to, Spinelli didn't care. He held tight to his mentor for a long moment before he managed to convince his shaking hands to offer Jason the note. "I… I found that when I woke up in the pool. Which had seven swans swimming it."

Jason read the words, just as alarmed as he had been when he'd seen the last note. But, tomorrow marked the eighth day of this nightmare and that at least meant an end to the birds and a beginning to clues that might turn out to be useful. The elder sighed, and nudged Spinelli back toward the elevator. "Come on."

"Are we relocating again?" Spinelli asked, still shivering from the chilly water as he curled his arms around himself.

"Nope, just changing rooms."

And when Jason said changing rooms, he meant giving up their room in favor of renting out an entire floor of the hotel. They randomly selected one towards the center of the floor, but still close to an emergency exit in the case that it was required.

While Spinelli showered and got warm, Jason set himself to the task of strategizing. The eighth day was represented by maids a'milking, and while he wasn't entirely sure how their Creepy Christmas Stalker would produce that, he wouldn't be at all surprised to have it occur right on schedule.

He would not, however, allow himself – or Spinelli – to be drugged again. There was just no way he could risk this madman getting Spinelli away from him again. Since their follower hadn't acted unless it was in relation to the day's event, Jason figured it would be safe for them to go out and buy fresh food for meals. The room they'd selected - amusingly enough some sort of honeymoon suite, with its one bed and cozy two person table - did have an ample kitchenette included. These food runs, however, would be done together, because making sure Spinelli was safe and leaving him alone contradicted each other entirely.

With that solved, he could focus on the upcoming ability to question the components of the five remaining gifts. Days eight through twelve involved humans. Humans which could be threatened, interrogated, and otherwise manipulated into talking. Jason could get answers from them where he couldn't from the rabid bird still in his beloved living room.

They headed to the store to stock up on groceries for the night. Jason was adding a couple of bottles of orange soda to their purchases when the inevitable happened. Not another strike from the Christmas Stalker, but something else Jason had been anticipating.

"Why me, Stone Cold?" Spinelli asked.

Jason could hardly blame him. "I don't know, Spinelli." He answered, why this psychopath had decided Spinelli was his beloved or whatever, Jason honestly didn't know. Yes, Spinelli was a great guy and Jason himself might have entertained less creepy ideas concerning a future with Spinelli, but Spinelli being kind and generous and caring alone was not enough to cause this. Maybe Spinelli had held a door open, or said hello, or something equally kind but misleading in the mind of. "It's not your fault, it just happened, and we'll fix it, okay?"

The younger nodded, though didn't look entirely appeased by Jason's assurances. Jason was having trouble believing it himself.

***

Jason woke first on Day 8, with his arm curled around a still sleeping Spinelli. It hadn't been his intention to fall asleep, especially like this, but at some point in the night he had. The presence of only one bed in their room hadn't been a big deal, but Jason suspected that if they had hosted their nightly visitor again, this might not have gone over well.

The rise and fall of Spinelli's chest against his palm assured him that no harm had come to either of them in their sleep. Maybe the Christmas Stalker hadn't shown yet. But, nonetheless, he extricated himself from the bed, prepared once again to wait for the arrival of the eight potential clues the day would surely bring.

He'd just been getting ready to wake the hacker, sometime later, when he noticed that something had been slipped under the door. It was unclear if he simply hadn't noticed it earlier or if it had just arrived, so he'd unlocked the door and peered down the otherwise empty hallways for any sign of movement. Seeing nothing, he turned his attention to the brochure.

It was an advertisement for the Convention Center next door. They were hosting an agricultural convention, which happened to land on today. Slipped inside it was a Polaroid of eight women jokingly dressed in holiday garb with eight cows.

"Spinelli!" He said, a little louder than planned. This was the gift for today. "Come on, get up and get dressed."

"Stone Cold?" Came the sleep-thick reply from the bed.

"If Day 8 won't come to us, we'll have to go to Day 8."

The convention was pretty crowded by the time Jason and Spinelli bought passes and got in. While it would have proven difficult to locate any one individual in the crowd, the display they were after wasn't so easily hidden. It was one of the first things set up once you were in the door.

"Think any of them know anything concerning our mysterious gift giver?" Spinelli inquired, sticking close to Jason in the crowds.

But Jason had already waved one of the women over. Spinelli couldn't hear what was being said between the mooing cows and the chattering mass of people, but a moment later, the woman scoffed and walked away from his mentor, looking quite insulted.

"No, they don't know anything." Jason replied, frustrated that their lead for the day had lead them exactly nowhere. "When we get back, look for events that might match up with the rest of the days, see if he can do this to us again." If the people the Christmas Stalker used as the day's gift were unaware that they were being used as the gift, it led them no closer than the birds had.

Spinelli dodged about, keeping pace with his mentor as they walked toward the exit. People bumped into him all over the place, but he hurried after Jason, unwilling to get himself stranded in the group.

They'd just stepped outside when Spinelli found it. Jason was just a few yards ahead of him, pacing back and forth as he sorted through this unexpected turn of events. But, there, in Spinelli's pocket, was a folded over piece of paper. It hadn't been there on the way over, which meant that one of the people in the convention who'd bumped against him had slid it into his pocket.

_~ To see my heart wrapped in the arms of another dims the light that leads us into the darkness. The unworthy one may not be permitted to separate what is preordained. Beloved, redeem thyself, take this sign of my troth and remove the impediment from the merging of our two hearts. His death shall pave the way in ruby droplets which shall glisten as we tread the selfsame path to undying bliss._

The words, quite possibly the worst ones yet, sent Spinelli into a panic. He trembled where he stood, staring helplessly at the very man he'd just been tasked with killing. Now Jason was at risk because of him, because of something he'd done. He couldn't let Stone Cold see this.

But it was already too late. The look on Spinelli's face must have given him away, because Jason was approaching him quickly.

"Are you okay?" The elder asked, just as he spotted the note.

Spinelli only managed to shake his head as Jason read the note. "This…" He started, gesturing to the note. "This is undoubtedly the fault of the Jackal. That cannot be denied, Stone Cold." He frowned, sniffling slightly as he plotted the ever increasing benefits of offering himself up for his crazy stalker – at least it would save Jason.

But, Jason did not approve of his statements. "No, no, it's not. None of this is your fault. I need you to understand that." For the second time in less than twenty four hours, Spinelli found himself pulled into Jason's arms. "You're making it through this and I'm making it through this. No matter what is written in those creepy notes, I'm not letting him hurt you."

While it was hardly the first time Jason had said something along those lines, Spinelli really wanted to believe it this time.

The hug broke a short moment later and Spinelli stuffed his hands in his pockets to protect them from the December chill. Upon doing do, however, he found another gift from his stalker. A rather sharp short-bladed knife, its glinting blade obviously intended to do harm to his Stone Cold mentor.

"Ouch," He hissed in pain as the blade slipped across his palm.

"What?" Jason questioned. His blood boiled when he spotted Spinelli's wound. "What happened?"

"The knife that I was to use to slay you has apparently been placed in my pocket." The younger answered, leaving it there as it wouldn't be a good idea to remove it in such a public locale.

The bastard had had a knife close enough to Spinelli to slip it into his pocket, which meant he'd been close enough to use it, too. It was killing Jason that they'd been so close to the person behind all of this and he'd never even known it. He held Spinelli's hand in his own, inspecting the wound.

"Come on, let's get back to the hotel so I can fix that up."

They headed back to the hotel feeling quite discouraged by their progress, but upon stepping into the main lobby, they were waved over to the main desk.

"You're the gentlemen who took the whole floor, right?" The guy behind the desk inquired. Jason nodded. "Good, we've got a delivery for you."

"A what?" Spinelli questioned, fearing a premature start of day 9.

The package was placed on the counter, which Jason opened and peered into quickly. Another countdown clock. "Who sent this?" He demanded, looking about ready to lean across the desk and throttle answers out of the unsuspecting member of the hotel staff.

"A messenger service brought it in just after you left." The man answered, his job completed. "I don't remember what company he was from, I'm sorry."

"Get rid of that." Jason ordered, ushering Spinelli along.

The room, at least, had seemed undisturbed, which Jason was grateful for. Spinelli had had about enough for one day, he didn't need to see anything else that proved Jason had no control over this. He steered the younger into the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the tub. The first aid kit below the sink was stocked and it didn't take long to clean and dress the wound.

"You okay to look into those events? Maybe the security footage from our friendly neighborhood messenger service?" Jason prompted, as he taped the bandage in place.

"Affirmative. Anything that can be done to identify our green-eyed shadow." Spinelli agreed. He slipped the knife from his pocket, offering it to Jason. "Can we dispose of this menacing dagger first? Its presence is quite daunting."

"Yeah, I'll get rid of it." He promised, slipping it into his own pocket. When Spinelli wasn't looking, he slipped it under the sink with the first aid kit, wrapped up in a towel. Just in case it was needed.


	3. Days 9 & 10

12 Days

**_Major thanks to suerum on this one as well. Um, the days get long as they get further in, so they'll be less and less on each one. Last chapter will show up on Christmas Day. Towards the end of the fic, it does go a little AU-ish, but not ridiculously so. Um, boys aren't mine. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!_**

* * *

Spinelli was the first to wake on Day 9. He found himself curled against Jason's chest, the elder's warm hand snaked under his t-shirt and resting on his back, keeping him close. It was definitely not a bad way to wake up - if only it wouldn't go toward antagonizing his obsessive stalker.

With no leads on what today's gift would bring – other than the promised nine dancing ladies – and no progress on the mysterious messenger, they had little to do today aside from more research. But, for now, Spinelli was in no hurry to extricate himself from his mentor's hold.

"You look far too comfortable like that." Jason mumbled, eyes still closed as he pulled himself back to consciousness.

Spinelli moved to sit up, taking Jason's words as prompting to end the uncharacteristic cuddling encounter. "A million pardons, Stone Cold, I…"

Jason shook his head, hand still settled on Spinelli's back, securing him in place. "No, stay."

There was no argument following that request. The younger settled himself against his mentor's side once again, his arm tossed easily over Jason's chest. "What... what do you think our Creepy Christmas Stalker will do when he discovers that the Jackal will not slay his master?"

"Shh…" Was the elder's answer, as he played absently with the stark white bandage on Spinelli's palm. "Not thinking about that right now." Jason shifted, rolled to his side so that he was facing Spinelli. Watching him closely for signs that he was interpreting any of this incorrectly.

"Stone Cold?" Spinelli prompted softly, unsure as to whether or not what he thought was occurring was indeed occurring, maybe it was all in his head. "Are we…?"Maybe he'd finally lost his mind with all of this chaos. Because there was no way that…

Jason leaned in closer, stopping so that it would be Spinelli who made the last move. "Whatever you want, Spinelli."

The younger closed the remaining distance between them bringing their lips together briefly. And it was only briefly because there was a pounding knock on the door that interrupted anything that might have gone further.

The two shared a brief look of fear – as if the one kiss had somehow set off some silent alarm and brought the obsessive and possessive follower running – before Jason climbed out of bed, carefully approaching the door.

"Jason, I know you're in there!" Came the familiar voice, at which point the mobster relaxed. He opened the door with a sigh of relief at seeing Carly standing on the other side. "What exactly are you doing here? And why have you booked an entire floor of my hotel?"

He opened the door without answering her inquiries and allowed her access, with no thought as to what their current situation would look like. One bed, with Spinelli in it, both of them in sleep rumpled clothes. It didn't take her long to jump to exaggerated (but not entirely wrong) conclusions.

"Oh-kay." She blinked, shaking her head in surprise. "I think that answers my first question, but why the whole floor?"

"The Jackal implores the Valkyrie not to question that matter, for it is a very, very long and arduous tale to tell." Spinelli said, sitting up in bed now, but not looking terribly inclined to move from it.

Carly raised an eyebrow at Jason, hoping for more information than Spinelli's evasive answer. After a few seconds of staring, she sulked as she knew she was getting nothing out of the aptly nicknamed Stone Cold. "Well, then. At the very least, why didn't you tell me you changed your mind about the Charity Ball tonight?"

"Because we haven't?" Jason answered, perplexed. Once all of this stuff with Spinelli's follower began, he'd taken both of them off the guest lists for all of the holiday parties they'd been invited to.

She held up an invitation, Spinelli's name scrawled across the front of it. "According to this, left at the front desk, Spinelli did."

Jason frowned. It must have been the stalker's doing. "Oh, right." He said, nodding to Spinelli for him to play along, too. Carly didn't need to know of any of this. "You did tell me about that."

"So you're coming, too, now?" Carly asked, as there was only one invitation in Spinelli's name. "I'll go get you on the guest list, I suppose. Oh, the joys of being in charge of this event." She made for the door, setting Spinelli's papers down on the kitchen counter. "I'll let you two get back to… whatever it was that you were doing?"

They watched her go in silence.

"The Jackal did not re-request attendance to the Charity Ball this evening…"

The elder sighed, peering out of the door once more to make sure Carly was indeed gone. "I know, Spinelli. But I don't want Carly pulled into this, too." He crossed the room to pick up the papers, looking through them for clues. "One of the groups performing at this thing fits today's pattern." Jason passed it to Spinelli.

"'_Yuletide High Steppers, Nine beautiful ladies dancing their way into your heart! Better than the Rockettes!!!!'_" Spinelli fell backward on the bed, heaving a sigh of exasperation. "Well, that certainly does meet today's criteria. Why should we even attend? It will be just like yesterday – the 9 ladies dancing will know nothing of our mysterious observer."

"You're right. They won't know anything more than the ones from yesterday, but whoever's doing this to you was there yesterday – he had to be to plant the knife and the note about me – so chances are that he'll be there today."

"It appears as though we're thinking about that subject now." Spinelli frowned.

Jason nodded. "I liked it better when we weren't."

Spinelli's face flushed at the meaning behind such words. "As did I." He said, and Jason laughed. "Wait…" He paused, as he examined the invitation again. "There… there's another note."

_~ Beloved, I count each heart beat in anticipation of when we shall meet again._

"Meet again… He could be talking about when all of this started." Jason guessed, once Spinelli read the thankfully non-threatening note aloud. "Or any of the times he's been close to you in the last week."

"Alas, there is no way to tell as of yet."

"I guess we'll just have to find a way to figure it out at the Ball tonight." Jason shrugged. "You didn't pack a suit, did you?" A shake of the head from his roommate and bedmate verified his suspicions. "Neither did I. Looks like we're going shopping, then." There was no way of knowing if the birds were still roaming the Penthouse and now was not the time to find out.

The party was barely beginning when Jason and Spinelli arrived. Purposely – they'd planned to grab a spot close to the entrance so that they could watch the new-comers, see if anyone worthy of a suspect list entered.

Unfortunately, since this was a big event all over Port Charles, and held every year, nearly everyone in town showed. People Jason knew, people they both knew, and complete strangers to both of them.

"Anyone watching us?"

Jason shrugged, eyes scanning the crowd facing toward Spinelli's back. "Carly, but we know why she's doing that."

As the party got more and more crowded it got harder to determine when someone was staring or just gazing off into space. The nine ladies dancing had already started and ended their performance for the evening when Jason had an idea. "Come with me." He prompted, and Spinelli followed close behind. "We're going to test a theory… And probably make Carly stare some more."

"Why's that?" The younger wondered, even as Jason led him towards the crowded dance floor. "Stone Cold?"

The elder offered a hand and Spinelli could only stare in confusion. Surely Jason was not asking him to dance? "Trust me. Just go with me on this, okay?"

Since, for Spinelli, Jason and trust were heavily associated, he could do nothing but agree. He accepted the hand his mentor had offered and found himself pressed closer to Jason than before, just as the music to a new song began.

"Watch the crowds," Jason urged him, already doing that himself as they danced to the slow rhythm of the song. "If this guy's so obsessed with you, then he can fight for you, too." Hopefully not literally, more so in the jealous way Jason expected of the lunatic.

Shock was the prominent emotion faces on most of the faces around them. Surprise, slack jawed looks and wide eyes, too. A few here and there seemed upset by their display, but that wasn't what Jason was looking for.

He heard something like 'See, I told you I wasn't making it up!' from Carly's direction, and he could only guess that she'd told Jax or someone else about what she'd thought she'd interrupted this morning, but that wasn't what he was looking for either.

Somewhere toward the back of the ground that had gathered to watch their spectacle, a glass shattered on impact with the floor. That was it.

"Come on." Jason prompted again, pulling Spinelli along behind him as they broke through the crowd to where the sound had come from. They found the shattered wine glass, but whoever had dropped it was long gone. "Damn it!" Jason growled, pacing in frustration at having lost the culprit.

But, Spinelli seemed exponentially less frustrated. "While it will not get us our doer, we can get a positive identification…" He said, pointing up to the security camera mounted on the door that the stalker likely would have exited through.

They headed to the Cyber Café quickly – dodging the looks and questions that followed them as they exited. Whatever Jason and Spinelli were, it was no one's business but their own. And at the moment they had way more important things to deal with than the nosy gossipers of Port Charles.

"Can you find the footage from the camera?"

"The Ace of Cyberspace would require a much greater opponent than the MetroCourt's systems to have even the slightest difficulty with such a task." He assured his mentor, finger's flying over the keyboard. He hovered at Spinelli's side as he hacked into the hotel's security systems and accessed their security tapes. They had to be fast. There was a chance that the stalker could be doing the same thing in order to wipe the footage.

"Don't try to watch it now, just copy it first." He instructed and they watched the video file save to a folder on the desktop. "Good, good."

Spinelli brought up the file once he'd secured the computer from any incoming hacks and let it play through. Both he and Jason watched intently for signs of the tell-tale glass breakage. After several moments of staring, Spinelli spotted it.

"There."

The figure was fuzzy and hard to make out on the cameras resolution, as he was really a good way away from it, but it was clear that he had been the one to drop the glass. The look on his face – at least from what they could see – seemed to back it up.

"That's the messenger in the video footage from yesterday." Spinelli stated, bringing up a saved copy of that file as well. And, indeed the two matched. "Which poses the same problem as it did with that evidence. The Jackal could not identify the man who delivered the clock, so it stands to reason that identifying him now will remain unlikely."

"Don't need to ID him if we can catch him tomorrow." Jason reminded him. "He'll show up again, I'm sure. And now we know what he looks like."

"This is true." The younger agreed, saving his files to the flash drive he'd purchased while they were out. "Shall we return to the festivities?"

"Nah, let's just go back to the room. He'll be gone now."

The Creepy Christmas Stalker hadn't tried – as far as they'd known –to break into this hotel room, but, upon their return to it, it became readily apparent that that streak had ended. One wall was entirely covered in photographs. Arranged in a five by nine grid, the black and white photos depicted mostly Spinelli – going back months. Anyone else in the pictures was blacked out, unless it was Jason, then it was scratched out in red.

Not only were there photos, but the room had been trashed. The bed had been flipped, the mattress and accompanying blankets shredded, the knife that had cut Spinelli – the one that Jason had stashed under the sink – was imbedded in the pillow Jason had been using. The table was overturned . Clothes from their bags had been tossed about – those that were Jason's had also met a fate similar to the blankets . It was clear that their still unidentified shadow had not been happy that his orders had been disobeyed. Instead of slaying Stone Cold, he'd accepted a dance.

"This is… most unnerving." Spinelli commented, looking closely at the photographs. "Something is... odd…"

"All of it, I'd say."

He began pulling the pictures from the wall. "No, there's some pattern in this. Perhaps it will lead to a clue. The Jackal needs to look into this."

***

Spinelli had spent all night working with the pictures, trying to find something that made it all make sense.

Finally, sometime close to five in the morning, he'd figured it out. "Aha!" He had proclaimed, startling Jason out of his state of near sleep. The elder had been sitting on the floor beside him in their new room – one of the benefits of having a whole floor to themselves.

"You got something?"

"Indeed, Stone Cold." He grinned, gesturing to the layout of photos. "For each of the 9 days of gifts we've had, there is a corresponding amount of photos. Day 1, one photo, Day 2, two photos, and so on, but they were all jumbled together on the wall. Out of the 45 photos we were given, they also seem to go forward in time. Day 9's being the most recent. If the Jackal is correct in his timeline, then the closest thing we have to a starting point is this one here."

Jason took the photo he offered, examined it closely.

It was obviously taken in summer, judging by the short sleeves and shorts Spinelli was wearing. He was outside of Kelly's, and while it was unclear who was inside of the restaurant, Jason felt it was safe to guess that Maxie was one of the diners, as Spinelli was holding a bouquet of flowers. If he had to guess, he would have had to say it was around the time Spinelli's first proposal had scared Maxie off.

"He's been following you since July?" He said, more to himself than he was posing an actual question. Spinelli had been tailed – at the non-wedding, at home, at Jake's - all over the place as far as the pictures showed and Jason had never caught on. Never noticed that Spinelli was being followed.

"Evidently, at least that appears to be the case presented in the pictures." Spinelli answered, letting out a yawn.

Jason was still staring at the pictures, though. The most recent one appeared to have been taken just yesterday, when they'd been in bed together. Everything, absolutely everything, in that picture had been scratched out in black or red but for Spinelli.

That also meant that their room had been bugged. He was exceptionally glad that they'd moved now.

Just in case, though, he examined that picture more closely, to try to figure out the angle the camera would have had to have been at. The air-vent was the only possibility. To be safe, he checked the vent in this new room, looking for any sign of bugs. He found none, but he checked everywhere else, too.

"Guess he didn't want to waste cameras in rooms we weren't going to be in." He shrugged. He'd probably show up and wire this one once they went out.

Spinelli yawned again, leaning his head back against the bed. "I suppose our actions have not been making our not-so-friendly follower terribly happy. If he perceives our activities as betrayal by the Jackal, he could turn more violent."

Jason nodded. He'd already realized that. Maybe dancing hadn't been a terrific idea, but it had smoked their target out quite well. "We'll figure it out. Now we just have to wait for the next clue." He sat down on the bed as Spinelli gathered up the photos. "You should get some rest."

"No, Stone Cold. I'm not tired." He lied, rolling his shoulders and rubbing his eyes. "I'm fine. Really."

They sat around, both stubbornly refusing to sleep, for several hours. There was finally a knock on the door and Jason opened it cautiously. It was the desk clerk from the other day, the one who'd given them the clock. "Yeah?"

"You… you got another delivery. It came in the mail." He stammered, obviously not wanting another encounter where the terrifying man yelled at him about unidentified messengers. "Sorry to bother you." The man said, and then hurried back down the hallway.

"Day 10 is represented by ten Lords a'leaping. What does today's gift bring?"

Jason sighed, opening the envelope. "A ticket to an event at Port Charles University? Ten Morris Dancers?"

Spinelli interest piqued. "Morris dancing was a folk music style in England, most popular in the fifteenth and sixteen centuries. It's seen as one interpretation of the 10th day." He explained, and why he knew this Jason would never know. "The dance style – lots of leaping – has recently grown in popularity; troupes performing it are appearing all over the place."

He nodded, absorbing the information. "There's a note, too." He said reluctantly. Chances were that it wouldn't be pleasant, not after everything last night. And he was, indeed, correct in his assumption.

_~ My dearest Damian, clarity has descended upon me, and I now know that I must perform that which you cannot so that we can be free to pursue our combined fates. He shall not sully the purity of our committed love any further. You have been enchanted by him and I shall liberate you by disposing of the dark wizard. Warn him if you will, it matters not._

They read the words together, exchanging deeply concerned looks when they were through. It was the first time a letter had included an active threat. Sure, the one on day 8 had prompted Spinelli to kill Jason, but it had not threatened to do otherwise if he were not to comply.

Spinelli was the first to speak. "The Jackal would suggest that we remain within the temporary sanctum of the hotel room for today."

"We can't hide out here forever, and we'll miss our chance to catch him today if we don't go." Jason countered, even more infuriated now that this note had come.

"But perhaps we should alter how we participate in the day's events. Perhaps we should not attend the Morris Dancing – it will surely throw the Creepy Christmas Stalker for a loop, and maybe it will even make him realize that the Jackal does not share with him whatever it is that he believes we have."

Jason doubted that showing the stalker he was misinterpreting would be as simple as not showing up for one of his gifts, but the rest of Spinelli's logic – that he could get behind. It was a new theory, a new method, and they could use a new idea about now. Nothing else had worked.

"Alright. We stay." He agreed. "On one condition: You sleep."

"Only if you do as well, Stone Cold." Spinelli bargained, and with a nod of agreement from his mentor, they climbed into bed.

The next thing either of them knew – aside from the fact that they both really, really were beginning to like waking up together – was that the fire alarm was blaring.

"Get up, get up, get up." Jason insisted, looking totally prepared to carry Spinelli out of the building if he didn't get moving soon. He grabbed the photos and the rest of their combined evidence in one hand, and took Spinelli's hand with the other, leading him through the maze of a hallway and toward the stairs.

"You don't suppose that our unhappy stalker took things to extremes when he realized that we were not in attendance at day 10?" Spinelli theorized, noting that the event had started and likely ended already. They had been well and truly asleep.

Jason shook his head. "I don't know, maybe." He spotted movement out of the corner of his. It was in the middle of the hall, which no one should have been in given that the entire floor was theirs. "Hey!" He shouted, and the figure ran. His attention returned to Spinelli, handing him the pile of papers and the ring. "Go outside, find a cop or someone who can keep you safe and stay with them."

"Stone Cold, don't-"

But he was already running off.

Spinelli did what Jason told him, as much as he didn't want to. He ran outside, found Johnny, and stuck with him. He didn't know why the Mob Prince was there, nor did he care, he just knew that he wanted Jason to come through the doors safe and sound and maybe having ended all of this.

No such luck, of course.

Jason chased after the figure he'd seen, following through the hallways and up to the next floor. "Stop!" He shouted, though he doubted it would have any effect. They were in a vacant hallway – thanks to the fire alarm – when the man did stop, and that was when Jason realized his mistake.

He'd fallen into a trap.

The man before him was the same one who'd been at the party, been the messenger, been on Spinelli's security footage. Tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. Dressed in black, but with apparent expensive taste. He looked… normal. But Jason knew he wasn't.

"You have posed quite the problem for me, Morgan. Interfering in everything, keeping him from me." The man said, as he pulled a knife from his pocket, a twin to the one that Jason had left in the room. "You kept him from tonight's show – he would have loved it, you know. But, no, you dragged him into bed with you again."

He refrained from saying anything that would suggest that Spinelli hadn't been protesting – he wasn't sure if that was what was keeping Spinelli safe for now or not – so he settled for saying nothing instead.

That didn't sit well with the stranger either. "Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"

Living up to his Stone Cold nickname, he remained silent, still.

"Okay, then. Maybe… maybe you just want this over with. Maybe you know that he belongs with me and you have no right to touch him, that he's mine."

Jason was ready when he lunged with the knife. Angled himself so that it missed completely, and sent the stranger off balance, but he regained himself quickly, went for another strike that left a long gash on Jason's arm as he threw a punch. It would bruise, Jason knew, but that just wasn't enough. He wanted the guy to pay for everything he'd put Spinelli, put them, through over the last ten days, but it looked like now wouldn't be his chance.

The stranger was shaking off the punch and moving to try the knife again when the shout had come. Coming from a staircase, where firemen had to be starting to check the floors for stragglers as they looked for the non-existent cause of the alarm.

"Hey, you need to clear out of here!" Someone called out, gesturing for them to hurry. Jason turned to make sure that he wasn't still under attack, but he found that he was alone. The stranger had disappeared.

One of the firefighters took him outside, where he found Spinelli waiting with Johnny. The younger caught him in a hug as soon as he was spotted, and Jason didn't fight it, not even with the pain in his arm.


	4. Day 11

12 Days

**_Major thanks to suerum on this one, as well. Day 12, now that we're all caught up, will be posted sometime tomorrow. Again, I'm being dragged into work until late tonight so I'm posting now. Boys aren't mine. Enjoy and Happy Holidays to all!_**

* * *

It was after midnight when they'd been allowed back inside, which meant that Day 11 had arrived. Jason had wanted them to move rooms again first, before they did anything else, but Spinelli was having none of it. The bloody wound on Jason's arm was his first priority.

"Just… hold still, Stone Cold." He implored, leaving Jason seated on the unmade bed that they'd left so abruptly just hours ago. Spinelli ducked into the bathroom and retrieved the first aid kit from where it sat under the sink, just as it had been in their last room. Returning to his mentor's side, he tugged carefully at the ruined shirt.

"Might as well just cut it, it'll be easier." Jason said. With the rest of the clothes he'd brought destroyed, he'd have to get Carly or someone to bring him something to wear in the morning.

Spinelli complied with his request, finding the scissors in the kit and slowly removing the blood stained shirt, and then he found himself staring at the wound.

It was on his left arm, from wrist to elbow, the gash varied in depth, but never went dangerously so.

"You okay?" Jason pressed, when the frozen Spinelli didn't move to begin the process of fixing it up. He was actually shaking. His hands, all of him, trembling. "Spinelli?"

The younger startled, but seemed rooted once again in reality. "Oh, much apologies. The Jackal will tend to your injury without further intermission." Even still, he spent more time staring at it while he worked, and the look on Spinelli's face told Jason that his mind was as shaken as the rest of him. He cleaned and bandaged the wound, and really, it only took a few moments, but to Spinelli it took forever. "Task completed."

Jason nodded. "Thanks."

"No thanks necessary, Stone Cold, for it was entirely the Jackal's fault that you were harmed in the first place." Spinelli mumbled, ducking out of the room to return to the first-aid kit. He returned, but didn't settle down. Instead, he paced and fidgeted and moved about with an air of anxiety that Jason couldn't ignore.

"It wasn't your fault, Spinelli. It's not your fault that this guy is after you. You didn't do anything." He assured the younger man. "He went after me because he thinks I'm in his way, and he's right. I'm not making any of this easy for him."

The speech had little effect on Spinelli's still trembling hands. Jason could see that much from across the room. "But something I did had to have set this behavior into motion. That has to - at least in some abstract way - make the Ace of Cyberspace at fault."

Jason stood, approached his completely blameless best friend. "Stop." He said simply, hands settling on Spinelli's shoulders. "Stop moving. Stop thinking. Just… stop, okay?"

But Spinelli didn't stop. In fact, he seemed even more on edge and unstable now that Jason was right there, right in front of him. Before Jason could process what was happening, Spinelli had pitched forward, pressing their lips together in a kiss unlike the one's they'd shared when they'd been curled up in bed. Intense, demanding, different. Not the easy, lazy kisses from the previous day. But, even still, Jason didn't protest.

"Stone Cold..." The younger mumbled out, his hands landing on Jason's bare chest.

The hands that he'd previously settled on Spinelli's shoulders shifted quickly once the unexpected onslaught had begun. One curled around Spinelli's neck, the leverage he needed to pull Spinelli closer. The other settled on Spinelli's back, snaked under his shirt.

They still hadn't changed rooms, which Jason should probably have stopped and insisted that they do – this one was left alone and could have been bugged in their time spent outside – but instead he found himself tugging Spinelli back toward the bed.

The younger followed him eagerly enough, falling onto the bed first, Jason just after him, hovering. The kiss was momentarily broken, so Jason took the opportunity to question. "You sure about this?"

"Most assuredly." Spinelli answered without hesitation, but he was still trembling and squirming, and his fingers were constantly moving over Jason's chest, travelling lower as time passed, as if Jason wouldn't notice.

The kissing continued, only interrupted again when Jason had worked Spinelli's shirt off of him. He pressed his lips against Spinelli's neck for a long moment – it would leave a mark, he realized, and absently he hoped that Spinelli's stalker would never have occasion to know that - but then Spinelli's incessantly shifting hands found their way into his pants and he wasn't thinking at all, absently or otherwise.

Jason worked at the button on Spinelli's jeans, tugged them down his hips a little once he had them opened, mirrored what Spinelli's uninjured hand was doing to him.

"Nngh, Stone Cold." Spinelli groaned, arching off the bed to catch Jason's lips again.

A few moments more and they were both close, moving a little more erratically now.

Spinelli was the first to come undone, head falling back to the bed even as he kept moving on Jason, pulling him closer and closer along behind him. The feel of the younger tensing beneath him was almost enough to end it for Jason, too, but it was Spinelli's totally uncoordinated grip on him as a result that ultimately did it.

"Mm, Spin…" He mumbled out against the skin over Spinelli's collarbone. He pressed a hard kiss there and waited for his muscles to start obeying him again. He was relieved to see, once he shifted away, that Spinelli wasn't buzzing with anxiety anymore. He was still, relaxed, calm.

Within moments, after quick clean up and some adjusting of clothing, they were asleep again, Spinelli wrapped up in Jason's arms.

The next time they woke on Day 11, it was to a snowy wonderland outside of the hotel. It looked as if they were going to have a white Christmas. What a shame it was that they wouldn't get to enjoy it given their current interactions with the as-of-yet-unidentified one.

Jason woke first, but didn't rouse Spinelli. He just watched the younger sleep peacefully. There was no way he was letting anything happen tomorrow when their time was up. He would protect Spinelli, no matter what. He wouldn't lose someone else he loved.

When he did finally get out of bed, he called Carly to ask for the favor of finding him some clothes, and intercepted her before she could knock and wake Spinelli.

Carly entered with an eyebrow raised upon realized she'd walked in on the same situation again. If she was a little closer to the truth this time, Jason didn't tell her. "Should I ask what happened to your clothes? Or to your arm? Or perhaps why that room down the hall is totally trashed?"

"Like Spinelli said the other day: It's a long story." Jason answered, and that was all the explanation she was going to get out of him.

"You confuse me more and more every time I see you." She shook her head and took her leave, wondering when her best friend had gotten so weird.

Jason wasn't concerned with her, though. Once he'd cleaned up and changed into the new clothes, he finally did wake Spinelli. They gathered up their things once Spinelli was ready, with plans to relocate rooms shortly, and headed down to the Cyber Café so Spinelli could check some leads he'd had running.

What he found, upon the analysis of his information, was very little. The photo from the security footage had yet to produce a result, so they still had no name to go with the face. They had not yet received Day 11's plans, which meant that they couldn't decide what to do about that yet, either.

Jason, who'd been sitting beside him watching him work, nodded to the vending machine. "Orange soda?" He questioned, and the younger nodded.

Continuing with his research, he checked his email, waiting for results from another source he'd tried. Nothing from that, but he did have two new messages from an unfamiliar address. The first was a ticket to The Scottish Regimental Pipers on special engagement all the way from Edinburgh. They were set to perform in the park that night, all eleven of them.

That solved one mystery at least, but he had a sinking feeling that he knew what the second message was concerning.

_~Judas, my heart is rent asunder that you would deign to let one such as he to defile you with his base touch. I can only trust that you are bewitched and once he is removed from this mortal plane, I shall claim that which is mine. Be warned though, you are sullied and it shall require a cleansing ritual before you are once more pure enough to be embraced by my love and ascend to the celestial sphere, wrapped for eternity in your true lover's embrace._

Spinelli frowned at the note, once again actively threatening Stone Cold, and now it was going on about rituals. It never ended. But, he had to make sure it did. There was no way that he was allowing his mentor to fall prey to this disturbed individual.

He peered over his shoulder at Jason, who was still fighting with the vending machine and quickly hit the reply button.

**As-Of-Yet-Unidentified-One, the Jackal is aware that he has not been appreciative of the efforts you have gone to in compiling these extravagant gifts. He is also aware that his involvement with the Stone Cold one has offended you tremendously. As you assumed, I have indeed been bewitched, but I shall find my escape. Tomorrow. I need but one more day to complete my planning. However, I must ask for one further contingency. The Jackal does not desire to have the start of our eternal union be tainted by the death of an unworthy one, so I request that Stone Cold remain unharmed. I shall meet you at the Penthouse following the final gift's presentation.**

Jason was making his return. Spinelli quickly hit the 'send' button, and deposited the original message to the trash can. With just the concert information remaining, his secret was safe.

"Find anything new?" The elder asked, setting the orange soda can down beside Spinelli as he sipped a water bottle and reclaimed his spot.

"We have received an email from the Creepy Christmas Stalker confirming the locale and time of today's event." He pulled up that message, so Jason could read it himself. He didn't seem overly thrilled by the prospect.

He sighed. "Port Charles winter, in the snow, with bagpipe music. This'll be fun."

Spinelli laughed softly. "One could call it that."

Several hours later, they were bundled up in warm coats and gloves, heading out of the hotel toward the park. Jason tugged playfully at the hat Spinelli wore, slung an arm around his shoulder as they walked to the venue, which was already suitably crowded.

"You think he'll show after your struggle last night?" Spinelli inquired, as they settled in under a tree that shielded them from the falling snow.

"I'm sure." Jason said. "He'll have a black eye; that should make him a little easier to spot."

Unfortunately, they never did spot him. The concert went smoothly, which meant that they'd had to stay for the whole event, just in case. By the time the eleven bagpipers had finished their performance, Jason was far from happy with the situation. It figured that this would be a calm event.

"I'm glad that's over." Jason grumbled, as they started the trip back to the MetroCourt. It was still snowing, they were both pretty well chilled, and the prospect of curling up in bed was sounding better and better the closer they got.

Spinelli, once again tucked against his side as they walked, seemed quiet.

"You alright?"

Spinelli nodded. "Fine, Stone Cold. Just… thinking, is all."

Jason paused. "We'll… we'll find him, okay?" He said, and it sounded like a promise, even though Spinelli had already secretly sealed his own fate. Unknowing of the deal Spinelli had made, he ducked his head, pressing a kiss against the younger's lips.

It was interrupted, just a scant second later, just as Spinelli's hands had slid into the warmth of Jason's coat, when a snowball came whirling towards them. It hit Jason with a surprisingly audible thud. Spinelli, if he would have had to guess, would say it had hidden a rock.

"Damn it," Jason growled out, wheeling to see who'd thrown it. A figure was running away, already a good distance off. With the choices of chasing or staying with Spinelli, he opted for the latter. He wouldn't catch up anyway. He rubbed the bump already forming on his shoulder blade and turned back to Spinelli.

"Perhaps we should return to the relative safety of the room." Spinelli said, beating Jason to the suggestion. His good hand caught Jason's, fingers lacing together as they headed inside.

After a cursory check for bugs, Jason deemed the room uncompromised and they settled in for the night.

"Stone Cold?" He prompted, approaching the elder once they'd both changed out of their snow soaked clothes, once wounds had been re-bandaged.

"Hmm?" Was the response from Jason, busy adjusting the tape covering the gauze on his arm.

Spinelli hesitated, stopping just in front of his mentor. "Perhaps we could…" He swallowed, eyeing the clock that told him Day 12 was rapidly approaching. "Perhaps we could find some way to enjoy ourselves on this snow-white Christmas Eve?" He proposed, hoping Jason would get the idea.

He did, and Jason was the one, this time, to move forward and initiate the kissing. This time things progressed much further than the previous nights activities had.

It was somewhere on the way to the bed that it really dawned on Spinelli. Tomorrow he would surrender himself to the Creepy Christmas Stalker, and, if the various notes and emails had anything to say about it, he would then meet his own demise. But Jason would be safe and that was what mattered.

Right now, though, these were potentially his last hours with Stone Cold, and he planned to make the most of them.


	5. Day 12

12 Days

**_Major thanks to suerum for all of her help on this! Alright, guys. Last chapter, I hope the ending lives up to your expectations. Boys aren't mine. Happy Holidays, all! Enjoy!_**

* * *

Spinelli woke bright and early on Day 12, but if he was a little weary of actually getting out of bed, he could hardly be blamed. Jason was pressed against him, his bare chest against Spinelli's equally bare back, arms curled protectively around him. One of the elder's hands had settled itself on Spinelli's similarly naked hip, keeping him in place. There was the warm breath on the back his neck, and the general feeling of warmth that came with sleeping so close to someone else that made getting out of bed that much more unappealing.

But, it had to be done.

Today, in just a few hours, if Spinelli's suspicions on the setting of today's event were correct, he would sacrifice himself. There were things to do prior to that of great importance. Like make sure Stone Cold was informed of his plan.

"Right about now," Jason began, his voice sleep-thick and so close as he pressed a kiss to the back of Spinelli's neck. "I'm thinking about just taking you away from here. Getting out of the country until this is all over with."

"He'd find me, Stone Cold. Hiding me wouldn't deter him from his quest, it would only serve to make him more unyielding." He answered somberly, turning over to face his now-lover. He buried his face against Jason's neck, sighing in something like contentment when the elder brought his hand up to tangle in his hair. "We shall face today valiantly, no matter the possible outcomes."

The elder nodded. "If that's what you want."

It was hardly what he wanted, really, just what had to be done. Running would only guarantee that they'd be chased, and he doubted he could make this deal again once that happened. "The Jackal presumes that the 12 Drummers Drumming characteristic of the final day in this blasted yuletide tune shall make their appearance at the Annual Christmas Day Parade this afternoon." He looked to his watch, which read 7:22. "We still have plenty of time, perhaps we should rest up a bit more?"

What they ended up doing involved a lot less by way of resting and a lot more activity. In the end, they passed out for a few more hours and woke around noon, with just two hours until the parade began.

Once showered and dressed, they headed downstairs. Spinelli insisted on checking his email to verify the details of today's event since they had yet to receive confirmation by any other means. Jason slipped away to speak to one of the bodyguards he had called on to provide him with adequate weaponry for whatever today had in store.

Making sure Jason was still occupied with the guard, Spinelli checked his email. He saw he had the email concerning the parade, and passed that one by in favor of clicking the other new message. It was another note, as he expected.

_~Damian, my beloved and exalted, I did but try to extricate you from his clutches yesterday for he had the audacity to lay hands on you when I now know that in your heart you are repulsed by any touch other than mine. Yet, I did foreswear to harm him and thus, I left before inflicting further damage. The hours are waning and soon we shall be united as has been foretold. I will mark you as mine before we finally inextricably unite and together rend us of our bonds of mortality._

Okay, so the terms of his deal had been accepted. Jason would be safe. He deleted the message to err on the side of caution and moved to his next, exponentially more important task.

He typed quickly, making sure that it was painfully clear what his reasons for doing this were. He would have already done what the note warned of when Jason discovered this information.

With one final glance over the message, he hit print, and also printed the information in the email about the parade – even though they both already knew it. Pocketing the most important note, he approached Jason and offered the second page.

"You were right, then." He said, breaking away from his conversation with the body guard. He motioned the guard away and he and Spinelli set out for the park. They'd be early, but then that was what Jason was hoping for. Maybe they could catch him before all the chaos of the parade began.

The street that the parade would follow was already starting to crowd, despite the time. Recognizable groups were everywhere. Carly and Jax, with Michael, Morgan, and Josslyn. Nikolas with Spencer. Alexis was just arriving with Molly and Kristina – who seemed far more interested in her boyfriend's presence than with her family. Countless other familiar faces, but not the one Jason was looking for.

"You see him anywhere?" He prompted Spinelli, standing beside him.

"Negative thus far."

In fact, it wasn't until the 12 Drummers had made their appearance that Spinelli did see any signs of his mysterious suitor. He spotted the stranger across the street from him. He raised a single finger to his lips, telling Spinelli to remain silent – as if he didn't already know. Spinelli offered a subtle nod of his head in response.

This was it. That was his signal to leave. He bit his lip, hesitating. Maybe… maybe Jason had had the right idea. They could run. They could go someplace far, far away, disappear with new identities and new lives and...

No.

The note he'd slipped into his pocket he now slipped into Jason's. Silently, as stealthily as he could manage, he backed away from Jason, from everything that represented stability and safety and home, and disappeared into the mass of the crowd.

Even the knowledge that he was returning to someplace that should feel like home – it wasn't, not without Jason – didn't help him. He expected, more so, dreaded, that his stalker would approach him, walk with him back to the Penthouse, but he found himself blissfully alone. Just outside, he removed the gold ring from his pocket and slid it back onto his finger, where it most definitely did not belong.

He headed into the building, passed several of his neighbors, up the stairs, and expected to be overwhelmed by the number of birds they'd left behind. Upon entering Penthouse number 2, however, he found the place spotless, as if four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and one very scary partridge in a pear tree had not been residing there just over a week ago.

"I didn't think you'd appreciate the mess." Came the unfamiliar voice that Spinelli had yet to actually hear. "Or the noise."

"The Jackal does indeed appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"You're not the Jackal. Not anymore." That was the harsh reply to his comment and suddenly the man was in his personal space, standing just in front of him. "The Jackal is associated with him, and we just can't have that. You are Damian. Just Damian."

Spinelli frowned, but quickly forced his features into a more neutral expression. "Ugh, as you wish. What should I, Damian, call you then?"

Betrayal, hurt, anger, flashed in the other's eyes. "You mean you don't know me?"

"I… I do not." He said, hoping he just hadn't sent this all down in flames. He scrambled to correct himself. "I mean, that is, I know of you, I have known of you, but I don't know your name."

He seemed appeased by Spinelli's cover. "So, you have noticed me. Good. You can call me Franco."

"Okay." Spinelli stuttered. This… this really hadn't been a good idea. "Again, the Ja- I am truly sorry for what you had to see of my involvements with Stone- the Unworthy One these past few days. But I thank you for agreeing to leave him unharmed."

"It was only because you requested it. Had you not intervened I would have made him pay for what he's done to you." Franco assured him. "Your reasoning, though, I understood, and granted you that much."

He nodded, and found himself being led toward the sofa. Franco sat down right beside him, knees bumping with their proximity. "I, ugh, would you mind refreshing my mind on how we originally met. I recall that it was in July, but I've been so overwhelmed by the recent events that I can't seem to focus on the memory." He hoped that sounded convincing enough to assure Franco that he wasn't totally oblivious.

"I suppose that could be understood given the circumstances. It was at Jake's, when your heathen of a roommate was not present. You sang with such passion, such emotion, and it seemed as if you were singing solely to me. Your words requested that you wished for someone to show you what true love was, so I knew I had my chance. I knew that we were meant to be, Damian."

Spinelli's mind whirled. If he could have been singing any more directly to Maxie, he couldn't imagine how it would occur. How this guy thought the song had been some sign, some signal to him that they were meant to spend eternity together…

"Oh, that is correct." He lied. "Why is it that you waited so long to identify yourself to me? Were you simply waiting until you could put this master plan into motion? How much effort you must have had to put into it. The details, how you got in here so many nights, even after the… unworthy one changed the locks and upped security, hacking into my laptop. How you managed to drug us once we'd gone to the hotel, all the bugs in the rooms." Spinelli paused in his ideally ego-boosting speech. "It was all executed to perfection. Simply brilliant."

Franco was all out grinning now. "I'm glad you could see the genius behind my plan to win you over completely. I knew you would see it."

Spinelli nodded. "I, of course I would."

"Come, let's proceed with the tasks that will rid you of the contamination you faced - through no will of your own – by interacting so intimately with one so unworthy." He stood, pulling Spinelli to his feet and making for the stairs as if he had lived here as long as Spinelli had.

"Pardon?"

"You must be cleaned. Did I not inform you of this in the message following your transgression with him?"

Spinelli froze where he stood, trying to recall. That would have been the email that he had replied to. The one that had threatened Jason outright. In truth, he had been solely focused on that aspect, not on whatever plans Franco had in mind for him. "Oh… you did, didn't you?"

Franco ushered him on, and led the way to the regrettably pink room. Previously, it had been Spinelli's safe haven. His own area - cluttered and filled with the organized chaos he had bestowed upon it. Now it was as if it had never been his room. His captor obviously sensed his hesitance for whatever was coming. "Oh, do relax, will you, Damian? I am merely asking you to take a bath, or a shower, if you would ultimately prefer. If you so wish it, I will even remain out of the room."

"Alright, if that is what it takes, I will comply with your request." He said, voice shaking even as he shut himself inside of his small bathroom. He was glad for the reprieve from Franco's insistent gaze. Slowly, he stripped out of his clothes, turned on the tap, waited for the temperature to level out and climbed in. He washed slowly, stalling for time, but he knew he could only do that for so long.

A long moment was spent regarding the two shampoo bottles set on the edge of the tub. One was his, but the other was Jason's. He'd had to borrow it once when his own had run out and he'd forgotten to return it. He opted for that one.

When he'd taken as long as he supposed he could – evidenced by the impatient prompting by Franco from the other side of the door – he turned off the water, stepped out, and dried off as methodically as possible. With all the conviction of a sentenced man heading for the hangman's noose, he called out an assurance to his would-be murderer that he would be out momentarily.

As soon as he figured out what he was supposed to do about his clothes. He doubted putting what he'd been wearing back on would go over well – those clothes had been 'contaminated' by Stone Cold, according to Franco, but he definitely wasn't walking out there in a towel. It presented quite the dilemma.

"Might I perhaps have some clothes to change into, Franco? Ones that have not been tarnished by the unworthy one's touch? I thought perhaps we might talk a bit more before anything else."

The door cracked open just a bit and a clean outfit was passed through to him. He changed quickly. Tugged on boxers and jeans, pulled the proffered button down shirt over his still damp hair, even slid on his shoes in case an opportunity for escape presented itself, and opened the door.

"Most appreciated." Spinelli smiled as best he could. "M-my question: Why does this have to end?" he asked, with a sort of morbid curiosity. "Why can't we simply run away, simply be together. Why, when I have just found my soul mate," He exhaled shakily, reminded himself that this was all for his recently discovered soul mate – for Jason, "must we die?"

"Oh, Damian. Can't you see?" Franco seemed pleased with his beloved having called him his soul mate, but that was not the point. "As long as we exist on this Earth, there is the possibility that you will stray from me. You said yourself that you have been enchanted by the undeserving one. If you have barred me from ending him, as well as any future suitor you might have, then there can be no guarantee that you will remain forever mine."

He sat down on the edge of his bed as he absorbed the man's psychotic logic. "I… I see." He swallowed, chest aching and hands shaking violently because he knew that the end of all of this had to be coming soon.

"Indeed. Death makes everything betwixt and between us permanent. No amount of interference can ruin it for us." Franco sat down beside him, one hand snaking out to card through his damp hair. "But, first, of course, we shall consummate our earthy affair."

"What?" Spinelli began to protest, eyes widened and his mind kicking in to overdrive at the words. But, he found that the hand in his hair had an ulterior motive. It pulled him closer, smashing his lips against Franco's even as he struggled to escape.

He pushed away, scrambled backwards off the bed. Even though it shouldn't have been, the first thing in his mind was how amazing it had felt to wake up to Jason kissing him. Jason.

Jason…

* * *

It took only moments for Jason to realize that his roommate, best friend, lover, was missing in action. He spun around, the parade and his lookout for the stranger forgotten as his eyes searched frantically for Spinelli.

The stalker had to have gotten him. Somehow. He didn't like the idea of the man having been close enough to grab Spinelli, to take him away without any fight, without anyone around them noticing it. Spinelli wouldn't have wandered off in this without telling him, either, though.

He'd check around just in case though. The guy at the edge of the parade selling hot chocolate and water bottles hadn't seen him. Nor had any of the police officers looking after the event. With very few options, he headed back to the hotel. Maybe he'd thought of something, gotten some hit on his research into who was responsible for all of this.

There was no sign of Spinelli at the Cyber Café, nor in the room they'd shared this morning.

If Spinelli was harmed because Jason had failed to protect him – from feet away! – he couldn't even think about what he'd do if that were the case.

The gun in his pocket seemed so heavy. It was begging to be used and Jason would ensure that it would be once he located the bastard that had somehow gotten Spinelli away from him. He moved to remove it and found that something new was in his pocket as well.

A folded piece of computer paper. He opened it slowly, unsure as to whether or not it was from the Creepy Christmas Stalker. It wasn't.

**Stone Cold, Your Jackal has agreed to meet with the anonymous one behind all of this madness. In exchange he has assured me that you will see no further harm. I have told him that you have bewitched me, but I need you to know that it's not true. Anything I am forced to say to him will only occur because it is necessary in order to convince him I am serious. It's the only way to keep you safe, and that is my priority.**

**No matter the outcome of this encounter, know that my heart is yours and yours alone and that my home is, and always will be, with you.**

**Love, Spinelli.**

The words took a moment to sink in, but once they had…

Damn it! Spinelli had done this for him! He'd… he'd wandered right into that psychopath's plan. Even with his goodbye note, he hadn't left a clue as to where to look for him. How was Jason supposed to know how to save him from this madness if he didn't know where they had gone for this meeting?

He could have gone anywhere… especially if Spinelli hadn't had a say in the location. They could be on the way out of town already if Spinelli had gotten in a car with the lunatic. They could be in any one of the hotel rooms. They could be…

Home.

He looked at Spinelli's note again. My home is and always will be, with you. While right now it wasn't home, not with the flock of birds turning the penthouse into some sort of aviary, it was still something that would have been previously associated with home.

With a destination in mind, he took off out of the room, note tucked safely in his pocket.

* * *

"Where are you going, Damian?" Franco protested, moving forward just as quickly as Spinelli had backpedaled, hauling the younger back to his feet. "I told you of this, too. In the message from earlier today. Don't act surprised now."

All he had cared about in that letter from today was that his agreement had been well received. Jason would be unharmed, that was all he'd really gotten out of the email before he'd set to work writing his note for his lover.

"No, no." He objected, trying to back away from Franco, but he bumped into his dresser and found himself pinned. "I… I don't want this, no."

That didn't sit well with his aggressor. Franco frowned, assaulted him with another bruising kiss before he could make any further attempts at escape. Hands landed on his chest, tugging at the fabric of his button down shirt, pulling it apart without much effort. "I will assume that this protesting is merely your concern over your beloved seeing the marks the unworthy one laid upon you."

And, yes, there were marks on him from what he and Jason had done last night, this morning, and yes, Franco seeing them – noticing that they were fresher than they should have been since Spinelli suspected he didn't know about just how far they'd gone, was a concern. But not for the reasons that his stalker believed.

Self-preservation instincts seemed to kick in about then, just as Franco's hands began wandering dangerously lower. Spinelli pushed his assailant away, struggling out of the other man's grip, and made for the door to his room. He pulled it closed behind him once he was through it, hoping for the time it would give him, and ran. Down the hall, down the stairs.

"Damian!" Franco shouted after him, sounding furious, somehow just behind him now, and the psychopath's arms closed around him, keeping him from making it to the door. "I don't know what you were trying to do, but…"

Spinelli shoved out of the man's hold again, but he now found that Franco stood between him and his only exit. "The Jackal," He said pointedly, done with the charade, done with the pretending. He was going to get back to Jason. They were going to run, they were going to be together, and if this guy ever showed his face again… "The Jackal is attempting to escape." He pulled the ring from his finger, threw it at Franco who only fumed more.

"Oh, I don't think so." Franco frowned. "You are mine, whether you understand that yet or not, Damian." He growled out, dodging forward toward Spinelli again. He managed to get Spinelli pinned against the wall. "He's really got you brainwashed, doesn't he? This is all his fault."

"Stone Cold never did anything to me that I didn't want him to do." Spinelli replied. His hands were pinned to his sides, and Franco was too close for him to be able to kick out at him. He was well and truly in trouble.

His captor, while still obviously infuriated by his actions, did not seem terribly put off by his words. "I don't believe you." Franco leaned back slightly; still close enough so that Spinelli couldn't make another escape attempt, but enough so that he could let his eyes wander freely over the exposed skin of his beloved's chest. "No matter what he's done to you, you'll be mine."

The door opened then, and Spinelli was torn between dread and relief when he realized that it was his Stone Cold. He hadn't wanted Jason to come and save him – it put him at risk and that had been his entire reasoning behind agreeing to this – but he didn't want to die, either, or be forced into Franco's pre-death plans.

"Stone Cold," He heaved a sigh of relief, short lived as it was.

"Let him go!" Jason demanded, gun out and trained on the man who'd done all of this.

Franco pulled Spinelli off of the wall, moving him in front of him as a shield. "Try it, Morgan." He said, the same knife he'd fought Jason with two nights prior out once again and lingering dangerously close to Spinelli's neck. "He doesn't want you. He told me himself. You forced him to do all of it."

Desperate. He was desperate, clinging on to his fractured reality, Jason realized, and that… really wasn't a good thing. That meant he could come undone. And with Spinelli in such proximity, it was insurmountably dangerous.

"Damian came here of his own free will and you will not take him away from me! He picked me."

Jason nodded. "He did do that, so let him walk out of here of his own free will, too."

The stranger, still unnamed to Jason, shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. Leaving wasn't ever a part of the deal. Damian had to know that when he agreed to come here. You had to know that, too, since he showed you the notes."

"Consider this a new deal, then." Jason countered, daring to take a step closer. The knife on Spinelli's neck pressed a little closer, but he'd have a better shot lined up now – once Spinelli was clear of the action.

"No! There are no new deals. Not even the old deal anymore. You have become too much of a distraction for Damian, and you must be removed from the equation before you can further corrupt him against me."

Jason set his gun down on the desk, stepped away from it. "Fine. I'm right here. If you want me gone so badly, come and get me." He challenged, knowing that any attack orchestrated against him would offer Spinelli a chance at escape.

The rapidly devolving stalker paused for a moment, considering the challenge.

"S-stone Cold," Spinelli stuttered out, paralyzed both by fear and the feel of the knife in such perilous proximity, but spurred into speaking by his mentor's unadvised move. "What are you-" He started, but found himself cut off as he was roughly shoved to the floor. With the wind knocked out of him, it took him a moment to get to his feet again.

Franco was rushing forward toward Jason, knife well prepared to find its target.

Jason, again, was ready for his opponent's action. It mirrored that of the previous attack. Predictable. The knife didn't miss, per se; it left a small cut on his chest, but nothing deep or threatening. Jason had caught his attacker's knife hand as it came down on him, and he took the opportunity to twist it. With a stubborn grip on the knife, his opponent went to his knees. But Franco kicked a leg out, sending Jason to the ground as well, and the struggle continued.

Spinelli, meanwhile still found himself trapped. They were fighting right in front of the door. He could probably cross behind Jason, but with both of them on the floor now, it was risky. His gaze landed on Jason's gun.

"Spinelli," Jason growled at him, as he and Franco fought over the knife. "Get out of here!"

He didn't want to leave Jason here alone with the completely unhinged one, either. He picked the weapon up. It was cold and heavy in his hand, and there wasn't a chance in hell of him firing the thing anywhere near Jason, so he squeezed his eyes shut and aimed his shot into the wall.

He missed, and the bullet embedded itself somewhere in the stairs, but it had the desired effect. It got their attention.

Franco scrambled to his feet, somehow still armed with the knife, looking quite pleased. "Damian, good thinking, my love. Take him out, get rid of him, will you?"

Jason stood as well, backing slowly away from Franco, who still stood between them and the door.

Against Franco's words, and with Jason slowly moving to stand beside him, Spinelli raised the gun to level on Franco.

"What are you doing, my beloved? The game is over now. He forced you to do all that, you told me, so make him pay for his crimes!" Betrayal, confusion, alarm, flared in Franco's eyes, but he still didn't seem overly threatened by being Spinelli's target, as if he were simply joking.

Spinelli was shaking again, trembling where he stood. Thankfully, his finger wasn't on the trigger anymore, and Jason cautiously reached out to slip the gun from his unstable hands. "It's okay." He assured the younger man, but Spinelli didn't seem to hear him.

Jason lined up the shot for himself, pulling the likely in shock Spinelli towards him – so he wouldn't have to witness his attacker's demise – and was well prepared to fire when unexpected noise erupted from the kitchen.

As far as they'd known, it had been Franco acting alone, but Jason wasn't willing to risk chancing the presence of a partner. Reluctantly, the elder took his eyes off of Franco, but not the gun, turning to peer into the kitchen. He saw nothing.

"Stone Cold!" Spinelli warned, stunned out of his previous silence.

He turned back in time to see Franco lunging at him once more, despite the gun. He didn't have time to readjust his aim and shoot, he was too close already. Any shot he took would only miss.

But then Franco was on the ground, unmoving, the knife lost somewhere beneath him. Spinelli had shoved the end-table sitting by the sofa forward, and Franco had tried to dodge it, falling instead.

Blood began to pool out from under the figure on the floor, and it became clear that Franco had fallen on his own knife. He still wasn't moving; Jason doubted he'd be breathing for much longer if he even still was.

It was over.

The police would have to be called, Jason knew, but Spinelli was staring, transfixed, by the body on the floor, still shaking. Jason led him back upstairs, passed by the pink room - given that Spinelli's clothes had changed, he figured that he'd been in there at some point with the stranger - and into his own room at the end of the hall.

Once safely away from everything related to the last 12 days, Spinelli broke down.

"It's over," Jason promised, sitting down beside him on the bed. "He's gone, he can't do anything anymore."

Spinelli nodded slowly, and then promptly found himself pulled into Jason's arms.

"What'd he do to you?" Jason asked. Not because he wanted to know, but because he had to. If that bastard had done anything…

The younger sniffled. "When the Jackal first arrived, we simply talked, but then he insisted that I take a shower, because he claimed that I had been contaminated through my interactions with you." He explained, still trembling in Jason's arms. "I, ugh, completed that task, and we talked a bit more, but then the unhinged one claimed that there was yet another part of his desired ritual that we had to first complete."

Jason's eyes narrowed and he found himself wishing that the stranger hadn't tripped, if only so Jason could have killed him on his own.

"Franco – the unhinged one – assaulted me with a rather forceful kiss, and ripped my shirt open, as is still evident. I escaped his hold before he could do anything further and ran downstairs, and not long after that did you arrive."

He stood, then, breaking the hold Spinelli had on him and crossed to his closet, pulling out one of several plain black shirts. "Here," Jason said, it would be big on Spinelli's smaller frame, but he offered it all the same and Spinelli eagerly accepted.

"Most appreciated, Stone Cold." He answered, offering a small smile in return as he shrugged out of his own ruined shirt and pulled Jason's over his head. Jason changed his own as well, relieved to see that the small nick on his chest had already stopped bleeding. "Perhaps… we should alert the proper authorities as to the condition of the remains downstairs?"

The elder nodded, glad that Spinelli seemed better now, and found the cell phone he'd left there when they'd abandoned the penthouse on day 5. He had a mountain of missed calls, but he'd sort that out later.

The police were there within moments, and Franco's body was taken away. One very, very angry partridge no longer in a pear tree – who had obviously escaped the delusional man's clean-up attempts and taken up residence on top of the refrigerator – was also located, thus explaining the noises that had distracted Jason during their standoff. Mac was surprisingly sympathetic to their predicament, especially once all of the evidence was turned over and the situation explained. It probably had something to do with realizing that Spinelli would no longer be attempting to pursue his no-longer-existent relationship with Maxie, now that he was apparently involved with the mobster.

"Assuming the Coroner backs up your story about the knife, the case will be closed." Mac told them, as he prepared to leave.

Jason and Spinelli nodded their understanding, knowing that the findings would match up, and watched the CSI team leave not long after. The only thing remaining that proved there had been a dead body on the floor was the pool of blood where Franco had fallen.

"You want to get out of here?" Jason prompted, with plans to call on one of the organization's employees to deal with the mess while they were gone. "Maybe grab some Christmas dinner at Kelly's?"

Spinelli seemed to consider his offer for a moment, tugging at the sleeves of the too-long shirt he wore. "Make it Not-Christmas dinner and the Jackal would be most inclined to agree."

Jason laughed, slinging an arm over the younger's shoulders and steering him out the door. "Not-Christmas dinner it is, then."


End file.
